


Unrelated Relatives

by TheDarkFlygon



Series: The Most Self-Indulgent Crossover Ever [1]
Category: Caduceus | Trauma Center Series, Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Gen, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Self-Indulgent, implied/referenced child abandonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkFlygon/pseuds/TheDarkFlygon
Summary: Derek receives a strange email from a relative of his about a long-lost relative of his.(or: the most self-indulgent piece ever where I decide two of my comfort characters are actually related with the power of crossover flex tape and a lot of galaxy braining)
Relationships: Derek Stiles & Tachimukai Yuuki
Series: The Most Self-Indulgent Crossover Ever [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2040218
Kudos: 1





	Unrelated Relatives

**Author's Note:**

> THIS HAS NO RIGHT TO BE 4.2K WORDS. HOW.  
> Hi yes and welcome to a new episode of the "fly tf you're doing with your life oh my god", I'm sleep-deprived, bored by class and typing this at 1AM.
> 
> So this... _idea_ came to me after two friends and I went off into a server about some picture I posted there and, from a very thorough investigation of the matter (that consisted of 2 out of context Inazuma screenshots and going wild about localizations). In case you want to know, it ended like that:  
> "Also Inazuma Eleven got a very Europeanized localization so I guess the correlation continues (...) LIKE I DONT KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT DEREK STILES HAVING A NEPHEW CALLED DARREN LACHANCE DOC"  
> So I got a lil' plot bunny going around and just had to write it out it'd seem. The worst is that it's been way too much fun and that I have a family tree for that. Beware the power of Fly unleashing the things he does best: produce overly-specific crossovers nobody but him asked for. Because reasons. One of which being that class sucks atm and I have nothing better to do between intense assignment writing sessions than write stuff like that.
> 
> anyway thank you Rae for enabling me to write 4K words of whatever this is, also Tachimukai deserved better than what canon gave him and also whatever treatment I'm making of his character lmao

Everything about this situation sounded like a hoax.

Your estranged aunt from your estranged mother’s side – whose first name you didn’t even remember – messaged you about some life update you didn’t ask for. You don’t know where she got your personal email address from because, really, last time she saw you, you had a different first name and there’s just no way she knew about it. Sounds fishy, huh?

Well, put that way, it sure was, so it all sounded like a hoax to him. However, the email itself was precise enough for him not to immediately disregard it, even if Angie (whom he had asked to also read the mail to get a second opinion on the matter, as is often done in the medical field).

_Dear Derek,_

_I hope you have been well. We have not seen each other in a very, very long time. You may not remember me since I have not seen you in so long, but I am your aunt Ada, from your mother’s side. I may have cut my links with Helena but I still remember your bright eyes. If you are who I think you are, then, this message really is for you._

_I am not contacting you to mend our relationship or anything of the sort: I am more than aware that it is too late for that. In fact, I am only sending this to you because you are the only person I know and trust who could handle this for me._

Even reading it over now, it sounds too weird to be true on one hand and way too close for comfort on the other. The person who had written it to him not only knew him on a personal level, but also his family from his mother’s side, whom he hadn’t been in contact ever since university. At least, his memories of Aunt Ada are the most positive he’s got from his mother’s family, even if it’s mostly because they’re vague. That’s still better than whatever Mom was trying to pull at times…

_I have heard of your merits all over the news ever since GUILT was announced to the public. Firstly, I want to tell you I am very proud of you. Second, if I mention it, it’s because I believe you will depart for Japan soon, right? I have heard from a trusted source you will be travelling there as a representative of Caduceus USA._

_If you aren’t, then please ignore the next part of the message. I am not lying when I say I am proud of you but I honestly doubt you will be interested in what is coming._

This part was weirder, but when he tried to guess why with Angie, he remembered Aunt Ada worked in the medical field as a life aid. She may be working with someone who in turn knows someone from Caduceus or even Hope Hospital. Maybe she’s even working with Mary and that’s how she connected the dots. He supposes he’ll only know if she ever tells him.

_Around twenty years ago (that was when your mother and I broke ties), I moved to Japan for my studies as part of an exchange and met a man named Osamu, whom I married after graduating. Since then, we have been working around the world, together, never able to stay in one place. However, this recently changed, and we have been forced to move in the USA for at least a couple years._

(Aunt Ada telling her life. He can remember Mom complaining about that, as hypocritical as it was of her to do so.)

_However, we made a mistake when we were younger and only a little after graduating college and finding work: we had a child. Because of our active careers, we could not stay in the same place for long amounts of time, so I doubt he remembers anything about us, but up until now, we were able to provide him with enough money for him to have caretakers and food every day. I made sure he was in a dorm for most of the time, but now that we need to settle in another country, I do not know how we can still do this. Time zones will penalize us greatly._

So her aunt had a child and nobody else in the family knew it (and, even if they did, he’d have had no knowledge of that, he supposes). That’d mean he had a cousin he had never known about, living on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, whom didn’t even know about him. It sounded way too farfetched to be true, but on the other hand, he did remember an uncle of him once mentioning Aunt Ada going to “some Asiatic account” and, sometime later, marrying “some guy there”. It checked out, as insane as this email was.

_Derek, I know it sounds very ungrateful and displaced from me, but please, if you go to Japan, please meet with him. Yuuki is still a teenage boy and he cannot take any important decisions on his own just yet. I also doubt he will want to give up on his life to follow us to America, thus why I am begging you to at least check up on him for his own sake._

_I have attached to this mail his birth certificate and the most recent picture I have of him. If you do go to Japan and meet with him, please inform me. Otherwise, feel free to ignore this email and move on with your life. It was my responsibility, after all._

_With love,_

_Ada Rana._

Opening the linked documents sure revealed what he had been promised: a birth certificate from around sixteen years ago and a picture that showed a teenager with blue eyes and brown hair taking a pose with a couple other kids his age, including a short-haired girl and an older, tanner boy with pink hair (which kind of reminded him of how Leslie had green hair, a phenomenon Caduceus still can’t explain).

 _Yuuki_ , huh. His Japanese is limited, but if he isn’t wrong, that means “courageous” or “snow” in Japanese. He wonders why it’s got two Us, even to this day, but he’ll never know until he does meet the boy himself, as improbable as it’d be. How are you supposed to contact someone when the family member doesn’t even provide contact information? Well, maybe she doesn’t have it either; or maybe the kid would just not believe the story. He sure is only half-believing it.

When they discussed it with Angie, they were already departing for Japan, and even now, she’s much more doubtful than he is. He’s giving it the reason of the doubt, pinpointing instances where not everybody could have gathered this information (the family drama, the fact the sender used her maiden name rather than what he’d assume to be her current one so he’d recognize it was indeed from his maternal side). She brings up valid points too: why wouldn’t this woman check up on her own kid through email, text messages, messaging apps or even social media?

They decide it can’t not be worth a shot.

* * *

They’ve been in Tokyo for about a week and they have troubles finding information on the presumed cousin. They may have his full birth name, it still doesn’t help: they’re in Tokyo and nobody knows anything about people even bearing his surname. They had to ask someone to transliterate the name to them too, as Angie didn’t know some of the kanjis in it, and his Japanese is… something else, alright.

It took her a couple days to do so, but she’s finished translating the birth certificate, calling it a “successful exercise”, which she did get checked by a native speaker (they owe a lot to this woman who serves as their translator, he _swears_ ) before getting back in their office in Caduceus Japan. It’s time for them to finally gather more information.

“According to this document, he’s born in Fukuoka, in the north of Kyushu. We’re supposed to get there tomorrow to check on potential PGS cases, including a cluster that formed when a high school was mysteriously infected with GUILT last year. The culprit was never caught but, fortunately, nobody died that day. We’re tasked with making sure the patients’ conditions are under control.” Angie pauses. “You think we’ll come across your alleged cousin?”

“Depends. When was he born?”

“October 2nd, 2002. That’d make him around seventeen years old.”

“So that meant he was in high school last year, huh. Maybe we will meet him.”

Angie’s stance on the matter hasn’t changed in a week. Her displeased face just tells him they’re about to get through the same troubleshoot session once more.

“Still, don’t you think it’s suspicious? This woman – whom may or may not be your aunt – doesn’t know her own son’s contact information. Does the kid not have a phone or at least an email address? Plus, don’t you think it’s weird how nobody has heard about this boy?”

“Angie, I know it sounds fishy, but that last part isn’t unexplainable. He may not be on social media and we’re in Tokyo, not in Fukuoka. We’ll see tomorrow. Did you get anything else from the certificate?”

“Hmmm… Not really. Nothing on it aside from your aunt’s name is out of the ordinary, as far as I know on Japanese birth certificates. I don’t think we can get much else from it, sadly.”

That doesn’t sound right. In this day and age, where everyone’s information seems to be laid bare before millions of eyes, there must be something else they can rely on.

“Actually, maybe not,” he replies as an idea comes to his mind. “Maybe that, if we google this…”

Her face finally lights up.

“It doesn’t cost to try.”

Typing kanji isn’t something he can do flawlessly, but with Angie’s help, they finally get the name on the certificate entered into his usual English-speaking search engine and – sure enough, the search results in a couple results. He expects some of them will be unrelated to their person of interest, but as Angie said, it doesn’t cost anything to try going through at least some of them. However, is Japanese is around the level of a new-born, so she has to do most of the work. Page after page, they gather information, which he diligently notes down, reversing their usual roles.

They learn the boy is currently attending a public school named Tsukimori High, also located in the prefecture of Fukuoka. He used to attend a middle school where, at some point, he was the goalkeeper and captain of the school soccer team in a competition named “Football Frontier” (he suddenly feels very American). Come to think of it, he’s also mentioned to have participated in the high school soccer tournament last year, but any mention of him suddenly stop after the semi-final, despite Tsukimori High having won the tournament that year. 

On a team picture that, according to their research, belongs to the 2014 national junior Japanese soccer team, he recognizes the face of the other boy who was on the picture; albeit neither Angie nor he can put a name on him because they didn’t follow a junior-level soccer competition five years ago. Maybe they should have?

“I wouldn’t have expected him to be an accomplished soccer player,” Angie comments with the least doubtful voice he’s heard her speak in yet about this mess. “He isn’t exactly the most known player on the team – far from it, actually – but it’s still a bit surprising… and worrisome, since he seems to have disappeared from the radars last year.”

“We’ll have access to the Fukuoka Prefecture’s GUILT documentation tomorrow. He may be on there.”

“We’ll get all of our answers tomorrow, then. Hopefully they’re good news.”

* * *

The day has been a busy one, to the point where they didn’t even get much of a chance of checking who was on the list of GUILT victims they had to give a check-up to. In the end, the prefecture preferred to ensure there weren’t asymptomatic patients who could still develop PGS, whose first cases had sent Caduceus USA into a frenzy not too long ago.

The thought of this potential cousin, whose existence was actually _real_ or at least had been up to some point, was absent from his mind for most of the day, since they had so many people and so many things to take care of. However, now that they’re only waiting on one last patient to come in, the idea is coming back to the surface and he’s fearing it was all a fluke. So close, yet so far…

Their last patient enters with a knock on the door and, once Angie opens the door to them, they discover a very familiar face: a teenager with brown hair and blue eyes, dressed in a plain t-shirt and sweater vest. He doesn’t seem too easy about being here. However, it mays still be a fluke, as improbable as that is: they need to remain cautious and, most of all, to seem friendly and reassuring. They’re not here to interrogate a criminal, but a high school student.

“Good afternoon and thank you for coming. Please take a seat,” Derek starts the conversation with a smile and a gesture towards the empty chair in front of him. Angie closes the door and goes back to join here by his side, sitting on a third seat near the desk.

Angie translates into Japanese, but before she finishes her sentence, the boy sits down, looking aside.

“Do you speak English?”

The boy rises his head up.

“A-ah, yes.” His accent is strong and his pronunciation isn’t the best, but it’s nonetheless damn impressive. “A bit.”

“You know why you’re here, right?”

“Yes. It’s about GUILT, no?”

“Exactly. Do you have your medical files, as asked?”

Sure enough, the boy opens his backpack and gives him the documents. The kanji featured on there match his memory of the ones on the birth certificate.

“Let’s start with the basics, okay? If you have trouble understanding me, ask me to repeat. My assistant will translate it into Japanese if you really don’t understand.”

“ _Hai_.”

“What’s your name?”

“Tachimukai Yuuki, sir.”

_There he is_. If what the email said is true, if the birth certificate really isn’t forged… there he is. His long-lost cousin. It feels bizarre to finally face him after thinking about it for more than a week and wondering if he even existed. It’s surrealist to think this Japanese teenager could be related to him in any sort of way, even if the blue of his eyes remind him of something, on closer inspection.

Aunt Ada had blue eyes; in fact, they were this exact same hue, if he isn’t mistaken.

Anyway, he can’t let himself get distracted by that. Be a doctor, Derek – check the file. The GUILT report should be in the first pages, as the kids were asked to do as to facilitate and quicken their appointment – there it is, almost intact aside from some crumpling on the corners, as if someone had taken this sheet with too much strength with one hand.

“You were part of whom may have been asymptomatic patients, right?”

“Yes. My class was infected with, huh… Kyriaki, I think?”

“Kyriaki,” he says to himself as he writes it down on their notes. It corroborates with what they’ve heard today. “In what class were you, back there?”

“1-3.”

Corroborates their previous appointments again.

“What age are you, by the way?”

“I’ll turn seventeen in October.”

October! That’s one more hint that’s going their way.

“If you don’t mind, what was the last general check-up you’ve had?”

“Huh… Last year, I think.”

“I see. Now, I have to go through your medical records with you and examine you over so we can dissipate any risk of you developing Post-GUILT Syndrome later. You may have been partially affected by the Kyriaki that infected your classmates.”

“Oh, of course.”

He doesn’t sound so sure; but they’ll keep going.

Going through medical records should be boring him, but the specific case here may be why Derek is registering every single bit he has the time to read. Their patient is indeed born on October 2nd, 2002, in a maternity ward of Fukuoka. Some of his previous exams show he attended a middle school named Yokato at some point. They share a blood type: O-, the “universal donor’s” type. The similarity could have been expected, yet it wasn’t: that type is rare, after all.

There is one thing that is jumping to his eyes, however: the patient has recently been hospitalized for an injury in another hospital of the prefecture. The X-ray of it hasn’t been included (no wonder about that, it just isn’t handy to carry around, especially for something unrelated), so all he knows is that it was for a shoulder fracture which… oh, yikes. That must have hurt.

“Your records are up to date. Now, would you mind following me to the examination room next door?”

They both get up after he’s apparently allowed him to (he didn’t think he’d have to make a gesture to tell him it’s okay to get off the chair), heading directly into the other room where, without him having to say anything this time, his patient sits down on the exam table.

As they go along, Derek takes the opportunity to ask a couple questions. They’re all innocuous and things he’s asked to the other kids up until now, but this time, he does intend on memorizing them. He needs to reach back to Ada, after all. The answers are what surprises him a little.

“Ah, no, I don’t play soccer anymore. At least, not as much as I used to…”

“It’s… It’s a long story. The forward just shot too harshly. It wasn’t his fault. It’s fine.”

“I’ve lived in the dorms since middle school, so I always jump when I’m home and hear a random noise!” (He chuckles. Derek tries to follow). “It’s usually just the neighbours, though.” (You’re always alone at home?). “Yeah. I can’t remember a time where someone was over, maybe some babysitters.”

“I think I’ve taken care of all my vaccines. Is there something else I need to do about that?”

Despite his interlocutor looking so young (even if he’s like half a head taller than his decade-older cousin), Derek feels like he’s speaking with someone who’s gone through a lot. This isn’t an experience he enjoys having.

“All good on my part! I’ll let Nurse Thompson take a blood sample to send to the lab for your PGS chances and you’ll be good to go.”

Since he fully trusts her (and knows her hands are steadier than his at the moment, the weird and intense emotion he’s been feeling ever since the boy said his name is making him tremble), he leaves Angie to take care of everything as he mentally prepares what to do next in the main room.

The situation is bizarre, very much unlike everything he’s ever seen during his medical career. To be fair, it’s not every day that you meet a long-lost relative, especially when the other party doesn’t have an idea of who you are to begin with. He’s got no idea of how he’s going to break it to the kid, even less how he’ll explain how they got to this point – and, honestly, if said cousin doesn’t believe it, then it’s fine, it won’t be his fault that his familial situation is so weird.

Guess he’ll just have to wing it, as bad of a decision as that sounds.

Soon, Angie has brought back the patient who, in turn, sits back down at the desk.

“Is there anything else I need to do?” The boy (Derek doesn’t know how to call him – by his first name, like a family member? By his last name, like a professional acquaintance? It’s kind of _both_ , right now) asks, fidgeting with his fingers again.

“Actually, no, but there’s something I’d like to discuss with you. It, however, has nothing to do with the visit you’ve just had or anything medical. In fact, from now on, I doubt you’ll refer to me as a surgeon.”

The boy’s face darkens.

“…what do you mean?”

Derek takes a deep breath, then hands him the photograph he’s been sent.

“Do you recognize this picture?”

Now it’s surprise that colours the boy’s features, even if said features have also lost a couple shades. At first, he mumbles something in Japanese that even Angie seems to trouble catching, but before long, he stabilizes what seems to be a flurry of emotions.

“Of course I do! Otonashi took it with her camera when we were in Liocott.” He shows the picture off with his finger pointing to different elements. “The guy here is Tsunami, the girl here is Otonashi, and that’s me. I… I think that was taken five years ago? Otonashi wanted to try her camera’s countdown feature, so we just took it…” He puts it down, gives Derek a _glare_. “Where did you get it?”

“It’s a bit of a complicated situation, if I say so myself. Do you know about a woman named Ada Rana?”

The boy’s face keeps losing colours. _Okasan_ , he can hears being whispered under a tense breath.

“Y-yeah. I… She’s my mom… she’s my mother. W-why?”

“She personally contacted me last month about you.”

That seems to be the boy’s boiling point, because he rises from his chair, making it fall in a resounding noise.

“What are you saying?! Why did she contact _you_?!”

Oh God. The kid must be scared for his life, judging from his tone. He’s pretending to be angry and menacing, but deep down, he knows that little tremble in the voice, the way his eyes are actually trying to look away – it’s a thing he’s got going on too. How… peculiar.

“Well, she’s my aunt, actually.”

The boy goes to retrieve the chair and sits back down on it. He looks doubtful more than scared now, though the stance he’s adopting remains defensive.

“She never told me about any sister.”

“Ah, well… She’s cut ties with my mother way before you were born. I myself was just a kid when I last saw Aunt Ada.”

“…what she did tell you?”

He’s losing his grip on his English. Bad sign. He’s the older cousin, so Derek better get his groove on before he sends this boy into a panic attack.

“She explained me the whole deal after she cut ties with my mother and went to Japan for her studies. Here, she met a man named Osamu, worked in Fukuoka for a little while and… that’s when _you_ enter the picture. She asked me to check up on you for her now that she’ll have to be in America for a long period of time.”

 _Otosan…?_ now escapes from almost-closed lips.

“I want to make her a little report, so if you don’t mind, could you tell me about how you’re doing?”

Oh no. His face darkens again.

“…please give me her email address. I’ll… write to her.”

“Sure thing.”

Angie hands him a piece of paper and a pen, which he promptly takes, before writing in the best and clearest way he can the address on it. He gives it to the boy who, now that he’s looking, seems to be on the verge of crying.

“Is there something wrong?” Angie asks, looming over his shoulder.

“It’s… It’s just so weird. Mom doesn’t contact me for so long, and now, she’s sending someone from her family? It’s…”

“You don’t have to believe me.”

“That picture…” He picks it back into his hands. “I remember sending it to her. That was the last time we actually spoke. Since then I’ve just gotten money and papers.” He sighs. “It’s got to be true.”

Then a flash of surprise, of something positive on this poor boy’s face – finally, good news?

“Wait. If my mother is your aunt, then…”

And then it hits him too. Once again, he fumbles in a mostly intelligible Japanese before finding his footing once more.

“…we’re cousins?”

“Yes, we are.”

Oh man, he’s finally seeing a smile on this face!

“I’m cousins with a world-known surgeon…”

“Feels weird, isn’t it?”

“ _H-hai_ …”

“We’ll get used to it after some time. You’ve got any questions?”

“I don’t think so… Wait, actually, I’ve got one!”

“Go for it!”

“Will… Will we keep contact?”

The timid tone of the question says a lot more than it lets on, but all he does is pick another paper and write his own contact info, before handing it to his cousin.

“Of course, if you want to!”

“It doesn’t bother you, right?”

“Would have I given you my info if it bothered me?

A chuckle.

“Dumb question…!”

Despite how weird they are (they’ve always been, after all), things promise to be a little more unpredictable in the upcoming future, at the very least. For now? Guess they’ll chat a little more.

**Author's Note:**

> future fly boutta catch that ungodly relationship tag tomorrow  
> i'm definitively trying to convince the tc tag wrangler to hand me trauma center at this point


End file.
